


All My Blinks and Bullets

by app_jelly



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Crack, F/F, Humor, comedic smut, great british stuffin', super lesbian mode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 20:06:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14755437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/app_jelly/pseuds/app_jelly
Summary: Tracer tries to flank behind enemy lines and gets more than she bargained for.





	All My Blinks and Bullets

**Author's Note:**

> ...I finally finished something. Not gonna lie, the first half of this fic could be rated teen, but what I did to the second half...  
>  Enjoy the crack!

King’s Row, her old stomping grounds, even though they were the grounds she was presently stomping around in. Tracer stood inside the spawn room with her teammates, pistols on her hips, admiring the shitty décor. The enemy team made sure to destroy all the destroyable objects in sight to suck all the fun out of waiting to attack. Seeing all the bashed in monitor screens and puddles of champagne really put a wet spot on Tracer’s trousers it did, and not just because she slipped and fell.

After a minute of awkward dancing and D.Va repeatedly spamming “Happy New Year”, the doors opened up and the six member attacking team rushed out. At least, they tried to. OldMan76 stepped in a Junkrat trap and his insides became his outsides while a young Captain Amari was frozen into a block of ice out back and executed intimately in cold blood by the ice witch, Mei.

Luckily for Tracer, she used all her blinks to run past all the danger and secure a spot behind the enemy team.

_I’m in position._

Tracer crouched tucked away in a corner right behind the enemy team. She watched as the enemy Mercy, bags in her eyes, healed the full health Reinhardt at the choke. A flask of alcohol was strapped to her thigh.

Tracer’s hiding spot was so obvious, that if anyone turned around she’d be spotted. She really hoped they wouldn’t.

_Okay, okay. Deep breaths Lena. You can do this. If you land only headshots, the enemy team will drop dead, you’ll get play of the game, and then you can brag to the other dps about it until they leave the game ultimately making your team lose._

She grabbed her pulse bomb that she kept in her shoe to look at the charge. Fifty-percent until she could stick it on someone. Perhaps she’d wait outside of the enemy spawn and stick it on the Mercy from the back and watch as she flew right into the whole team, giving her another sick ass play of the game.

_Yeah, sounds peachy. Now let’s –_

The enemy Lúcio turned around on a whim, instantly locking eyes with Tracer. He waved at her before unloading a volley of audio pain.

He missed every shot, but that didn’t stop Tracer from almost wetting her pants.

_Fuck. I am in no way prepared for this. I’ve got all my blinks and bullets, but I’m scared._

Lúcio fired at her again, expertly missing all his shots. He sucked at his teeth before skating over to Tracer and fucking punched her in the arm. “Man, just get out of here already,” he said, clearly irritated.

Tracer backed up slowly with her hands up. “Now, just hold on for a sec. I’m a flanker, which gives me the right to fuck everyone up from behind. I belong here.”

She backed up until she hit the Mondatta statue.

Lúcio shook his head, disappointed in Tracer’s lack of skedaddling. “Hey, team.”

The entire enemy team turned around to acknowledge their fave healer.

“We’ve got ourselves a no-good flanker here.” Lúcio motioned to Tracer. “End her.”

The enemy Reinhardt, Mercy, Mei, McCree, Hanzo, and Lúcio took turns beating the shit out of Tracer.

McCree started off with a flash bang. He fanned the hammer on his peacekeeper, missing all six of his shots. He punched her to finish it off.

Reinhardt attempted to pin her against the Mondatta statue with a charge, but he missed. He whacked her with his hammer instead.

Mei froze her solid and lined up a headshot. She missed and punched her in the nose instead.

Hanzo, who was previously Junkrat but had changed to Hanzo after he blew up OldMan76, released his scatter arrow at his feet, you know that ability he had before the update. All million shots bounced off the ground away from Tracer. He also punched her in the nose.

Lúcio didn’t even try to shoot Tracer, he went directly for her shins and kicked her. Hard.

Mercy… Mercy put on her sunglasses and snapped her pistol into position. She headshot Tracer five times in a row with deadly precision, smiling when the kill feed displayed her face with a red arrow pointing at Tracer’s. “That’s how you get a flanker.”

Her team took turns high-fiving their second favorite healer. It was to be a mistake.

The attacking team, you know, Tracer’s teammates, flooded the choke and eliminated the entire enemy team in five seconds flats. They didn’t even use any ults, because they didn’t have any.

“Good job,” friendly OldMan76 said to Tracer through the coms. “You sacrificed yourself and enabled us to tactilely kick their ass.”

OldMan76, D.Va, Zarya, Ana, and Mercy rushed past Tracer’s eliminated corpse to secure the point. Mercy stopped and considered resurrecting Tracer, but Ana put her hand on her shoulder and shook her head no. It wasn’t a good idea and would be a waste of a rez. What if they needed it soon?

Ana immediately pushed up by herself past the point to get in some poke damage from the newly spawned enemy team. They wrecked her ass from across the map, but her team managed to secure the point. She spammed “I need healing” to indicate to Mercy that she wanted to be rezzed. Mercy rezzed her without hesitation. Ana said thanks and then pulled a beach ball from out of nowhere and tossed it into the enemy team.

The enemy Widowmaker, who was Mei before but decided to switch to the blue sniper to “carry” the team, headshot her and then crouched up and down where she stood.

Ana spammed “I need healing” but, unfortunately, Mercy’s rez was still on cooldown.

“I’m sorry, Ana, but if I rez you more than once in a blue moon, that’d be op,” Mercy said in front of Ana’s soul. She fell down to the ground with a yell because the enemy Widowmaker did a sickass trick shot to her head. “Well, fuck, I’m dead too. Thanks Papa Jeff.” Mercy spammed I need healing passive aggressively while she waited to spawn.

All of that happened while Tracer had yet to spawn. In fact, it wasn’t until the payload had made it halfway to the second checkpoint that she was able to rejoin her team.

“Sorry about the wait everyone! I think the respawn system is bugged or something,” Tracer said, out of breath from using all of her blinks as soon as she got them.

 “Don’t worry about it, Tracer,” OldMan76 said while spraying a full clip into a nearby wall. He could have sworn there was a Sombra there, even though, if he bothered to check, there wasn’t a Sombra on the enemy team. “We’re making great time. I’m sure you’ll do something to help out like you did earlier.”

“Right, like earlier…”

Tracer pulled up the team stats to see who her next target should be. “Oh, they’ve got a Widowmaker now?” Apparently, she didn’t pay any attention to when the sniper picked off both healers earlier. “I’ll go look for her on high ground.”

She blinked to every perch she could think of, but Widowmaker was nowhere to be found. That was because Widowmaker was busy doing ballet in the subway shit talking her team. “Quoi? What do you mean I’m not doing anything? Didn’t you see my double kill earlier? What do you mean that was two minutes ago? You know what. I don’t have to take this. I’ll have you know I’m the best ranked Widowmaker. Fuck you guys, especially Hanzo.”

Tracer climbed up the steps to the distillery. “Oh, bollocks. I can’t find her. She might be trying to spawn camp us.” She touched her pinky toe inside the distillery room and found herself taking an impromptu nap.

“An Ana? I though they had Lúcio and Mercy?” Tracer pulled up the team stats again and saw that the Hanzo had inexplicably swapped to Ana.

“Oh, Tracer dear,” Ana called out. Her voice hauntingly close because she was crouched directly over her.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Would you do an old woman a favor and put her out of her misery? I'm too old and brittley to live any longer.” Ana took out a hologram photo of her daughter and looked wistfully at it before throwing candy on Tracer’s body.

“No problem, lemma just get up from this nap and I’ll be happy to put a full clip into you.”

When the sleep dart wore off, Tracer sprung to her feet only to get flash banged and then headshot by the enemy McCree.

The enemy Ana walked up to her corpse and threw more candy on it. “Oh, Tracer. You’re going to have to try a lot harder to release death from my body.”

Tracer took to the challenge and died for it many, many, times. Fortunately, since Ana and McCree were busy playing with Tracer, Lúcio and Mercy were having a tea party in spawn, and Widowmaker was still bitching to her team in the subway, her team had it easy beating the shit out of the enemy Reinhardt over and over until they made it to the second checkpoint.

“I don’t know how you managed to do it,” the friendly Pharah, who was OldMan76 before, started, “but you’ve done it again. This was a breeze and I’m _seventy-six_ percent sure you’re responsible for it.”

Tracer flopped onto the payload from the distillery, bruised and bloody with one hitpoint to her name. The warmth from the giant emp they were escorting to destroy all the omnics living under the city eased her wounds until she regained full health.

She lifted her head and saw the yellow rectangle on the ground that marked the last checkpoint. Finally, her suffering would be over soon.

“Can’t wait to get back to Emily and switch between being the big spoon and the little spoon and then argue about who’s turn it is to take out the trash because it certainly isn’t mine but then she pulls out several valid points indicating that it is, indeed, my turn to take out the trash, but then we both get so turned on from arguing with powerpoints and glasses that we just forget about the trash and Em just completely destroys my pussy for the rest of the night while I white knuckle the sheets trying desperately to stay in the same plane of existence and when she’s finally done with me I slowly turn onto my side to see that her knickers are completely done for with how soaked they are and I just can’t help but get a sudden surge of energy to return the favor so I sit up, pull on some gloves, slide my goggles into place, and pull down her panties before she can even blink and I just go to town –”

In the middle, but let’s be honest here it was really the tail-end, of her rant, Tracer was shield bashed and then sent flying off the payload by a flail. Her back hit the outside of the distillery hard.

When she came to, Tracer found herself sporting a blonde mohawk and a black and yellow color scheme with a lightning bolt running down her leg. “Well, fuck me sideways. Super Saiyan lesbian mode has been activated.” She checked the team stats to see who in the hell could have sent her flying.

“Oh no, they’ve got a Brigitte and,” Tracer’s eyes widened, “the whole enemy team switched to support.”

The full support meta. Theoretically, such a team should be an easy roll. But since her team was average at best, they’d have to play carefully.

Tracer spammed “group up with me” until most of her team joined her just outside of their spawn. D.Va ignored her in favor of trying to 1v6. “The enemy team has either given up or are going full on try hard right now. We’ve got the ult advantage and we only have to move the payload a few meters to secure the win. If we stack our ults right, we should have no problem getting a team wipe.”

“Should I start off with my graviton surge?” Friendly Zarya asked.

“They don’t have anything to block it, so I don’t see why not,” Tracer replied.

The team rushed back to the payload with half a plan but otherwise ready to kick some ass.

“Is your pulse bomb ready, Tracer?” Friendly Zarya asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Tracer lied. Her ult was only at eighty-percent, but she was confident she could get it before Zarya popped hers.

“Okay, small lesbian. I will be ulting shortly.”

Five minutes passed.

“I’m going to ult… soon.”

Ten minutes after that.

“My ult will be upon the enemy team… in a moment.”

Tracer banged her head against the wall. They had been in overtime for over five minutes and Zarya had yet to throw her ultimate at the enemy team. She was sure by now that if she decided to sticky the enemy Zenyatta, she could build another ultimate before Zarya even thought about using hers.

Deft fingers removed the bomb from its shoe case and quickly threw it in the general direction of the Zenyatta sitting around twenty meters away. It missed the omnic entirely, falling into a hole and exploding harmlessly below everyone.

Tracer snapped her fingers. “Rats, I was sure I could stick him from here. Better luck next time.”

Unfortunately, there would be no other time. Tracer’s pulse bomb mishap inspired Zarya to throw her ultimate next to the same hole. The entire enemy team were caught in the graviton and fell into the omnic domain. They died, instantly.

Friendly Pharah and D.Va pushed up to both exits of the enemy spawn and released their ults, keeping the entire enemy team fearfully trapped in spawn.

The payload smoothly hovered to its final destination, a glorious emp marking the completion of the mission.

“Well done!” Friendly Torbörn, who was previously Ana, said to Tracer. “Your shitty ult inspired our Zarya to finally use hers. It’s a good thing too. I was getting fed up with my daughter constantly shield bashing me and only me and then fucking punting me into that damn hole in the ground. I almost used my molten core to show her what’s what.”

Everyone waited around to see the play of the game, which, to no one’s surprise, was Widowmaker doing ballet in the subway and constantly spraying the ground with her pixel spray.

When it came time to vote, only one person proved worthy. Brigitte. She earned a card for eighteen environmental kills. If that wasn’t impressive, then nothing truly was.

Tracer sulked all the way back home, which was only a few blocks down the road.

“Honey, I’m home,” she said, closing her apartment door behind her.

“Welcome back,” Emily warmly greeted from the other room.

Tracer slipped off her crocs by the door. One of the straps broke off.

“Dammit! Can’t I do anything right today?”

Emily appeared behind Lena not a moment later. She put a comforting hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder, using her other to rub soothingly down her back. “Lena, what’s wrong?”

Tracer, well, rather, _Lena_ at this point, slid to the ground, grasping her knees tightly against herself. “I was as useless as a broken umbrella on a rainy day.”

“You mean, like a fork for a bowl of soup?”

“Yeah, or like a tank top in the middle of the arctic.”

“Ooh, how about a rug on top of carpet?”

Lena laughed. “Sounds posh to me. That was a good one.”

Emily hummed her approval. She let the silence hang between them a bit longer. Her hand continued its soothing journey across Lena’s back. “Why do you think you were useless today?”

“Because,” Lena started. She tried brushing away the tears falling from her eyes, eventually giving up in favor of sobbing. “I didn’t get any eliminations. I didn’t even get any medals. Normally, somebody at least has a medal in _something._ But not me, the useless flanker. I think I died more than both teams combined.”

Emily’s eyes widened. She quickly stood up, a cheery smile gracing her features. “Well there you go babe! You got the most deaths out of anyone else. Quite the achievement.”

“That’s not something to be proud of.”

“It is to me.”

“And why’s that?”

Emily took one of Lena’s hands and ran it up her thigh. It didn’t have to travel quite far before its owner made a face of understanding.

“You know, I’ve never been with a woman that’s died more than the rest of her teammates and the entire enemy team combined. I don’t know what to do with myself. Just the thought of it is making me leak molten Emily juice all over myself. Won’t you help me clean up?” Emily winked in what she hoped was an erotic manner. It was.

Lena’s body forgot what crying was in favor of soaking her panties with her own love potion. “Y-yeah. I’ll just grab a mop. Which is actually my tongue.” She picked herself off the floor and stumbled after her girlfriend towards the couch because their bed was covered in bottle caps and Frisbees, lesbian Frisbees.

“Oh, Lena-honeycomb darling, the gates of heaven are opening. Better catch the train before it’s too late and you’re stuck waiting at the station for another train but it’s futile because the gates closed before the next one came… choo choo.” Emily said, lesbianly.

The peach nectar-coconut sauce of the gods revealed itself before Lena as Emily slowly, and lesbianlier, spread open her legs that she didn’t even have to get naked to do because she was naked the whole time because she’s a nudist.

Flora and fauna of the land rejoiced as Lena exclaimed on a subatomic level. Choirs of babes could not sing praise of da pussy she saw before her. It streamed its own supply steadily onto the faux leather of the couch. Hell. Yeah.

Lena dived right in, much like a shark arcing back into the water to take a renewed breath of sea bliss. Her tongue poked out, lightly shocking her girlfriend’s clitoris with her tongue ring. Because that’s what happens in super lesbian mode.   

“Mmm, yeah, babe. Just like that. I’m either super aroused or I’ve really gotta piss,” Emily moaned, her eyes squeezed tight as she tried to guess which one it was.

“Well,” Lena started. She pulled on a latex glove and drenched it in lubricant, watching as the liquid pooled in the palm of her hand. “Either one’s fine with me.”

That’s right, Lena’s completely, one hundred percent, into piss play. But it wasn’t meant to be. Emily came all over her Lena’s arm as soon as an impressive four fingers wiggled their way inside her woman pleasure cave. It was lit.

“Four crackers on a cheese plate! That was amazing.” Emily wiped the sweat from her brow, panting softly, then heavily, and then both ways at once. “I could go for a dip in the pool myself if you catch my drift,” she said with a wink.

Lena completely misunderstood. “Damn. I was hoping you could help me get my rocks off. But, now, you want to go to the bloody YMCA? I don’t think it’s open.”

Emily pulled her clueless girlfriend in for a kiss by the lapel of her aviator jacket. “I hope YMCA stands for Yeah Mmm Creamy Arousal (from my girlfriend’s sopping wet happy bucket). Because that’s exactly what I want.”

The tight leggings adorning Lena’s legs combusted from the flames of her arousal. Her panties would have met the same fate had she been wearing any. Lena scrambled to take off her jacket but was stilled from the touch of Emily’s hand. “Leave it on, babe. The pilot aesthetic really makes my toes tingle.”

Lena pooted a little as she blushed from the praise. Emily shook her head. She’d have to eat her booty a different day.

“Alright, Simon says get on your hands and knees.”

“Who’s Simon?”

“For the purpose of this session, I am, Love.”

“Oh.” Lena did as she was asked, making sure to spread her knees apart as far as they’d go. “Is this what you wanted?”

Emily nosed her way through Lena’s slit, rapidly sucking her way across folds, dips, bends, slips, n’ slides. She hummed her affirmation, delighting in the way her girlfriend’s body shook from the vibrations.

Lena dropped her head with a long moan. “Ooooh, yes. So fucking good. If you could… If you could just…” She trailed off, unable to finish her request. Her body tingled all over and it felt too damned good.

Lucky for her, Emily knew just what she wanted. “Do you want me to stuff you like a pig in a blanket? Like an overfilled wash basin?”

“I want you to stuff me like stuffed crust pizza that you’ve bought after a long day of doing nothing and having all the time in the world to cook a meal for yourself but choose to order take-away instead because you have a bit of cash but no motivation whatsoever to be any sort of productive! Stuff me like you’d stuff your mouth full of French fries because you can’t get enough of them even though they’re piping hot and straight out of the fryer!”

Emily fished her hand under the couch and pulled out her box of fun time toys, the ones she used for sex. Her fingers clasped around the massive 33 cm dildo she kept in there. Without hesitation, she threw it at the ceiling where it suctioned itself securely to the popcorn-like surface. She rummaged around a bit more until she found what she was really looking for. The gold standard, a 14 cm vibrating love machine. Which was actually just the reasonable sized version of the dildo she threw at the ceiling.

“Are you ready for your Great British Stuffin’?”

Lena nodded her head furiously. She had been waiting all of five minutes for this.

Emily activated super lesbian mode for herself. Her hair morphed into the sickest mohawk ever seen and she gained the ability to suction cup the dildo against her palm. She flipped Lena onto her back and absolutely wrecked her walls with her dildo-wearin’ hand. Her other hand kept Lena’s forest of curls out of the way as she sucked on her clit like she was trying to suck gelatin out of a straw.

The onslaught lasted a scant 30 seconds before Lena’s honey pot was weeping like geyser desperate to push out all the hot, steamy water it can before the next eruption.

“I dare say, that was a good one,” Lena said, catching her breath in a lesbian manner.

Emily looked at the slickened surface of their faux leather couch with envy. God, she wished that was her.

Lena noticed Emily’s envious look with a knowing smirk. “If it means so much to you that you end up lubed up with my homebrew, there is this position I’ve been wanting to try for a while.”

Emily raised a brow. “And which one would that be?”

“The slip n’ slide,” Lena said.

“You mean…”

“Yup, the move they do in all the lesbian pornos.”

Emily lay her body completely against the soaking wet cushions, her left leg raised to allow Lena access to her burning forge. Lena positioned herself with Emily’s leg thrown over her shoulder, touching their folds together.

“Oh my. That’s really wet,” Lena said.

“I suppose it is.”

They remained unmoving a few moments longer before Lena started grinding her hips back and forth over Emily’s pleasure zone. It felt warm and wet, but not much else.

Emily lifted her head to get a better look. “Maybe we should… move with more enthusiasm? Moan a bit for shits and giggles?”

They tried it, moving together with a brighter passion, their moans more akin to awkward yelling. Lena closed her eyes to focus on trying to build a mutual pleasure. She felt a far-off spark and tried to chase the feeling.

“I think, I think I’m starting to feel something. Just gotta close my eyes real tight and – woah!”

 Lena slipped off her girlfriend. Her foot cramped, causing her to lose her grip and knock her head against Emily’s on her way to the floor.

“Ow, maybe that’s why they call it the slip n’ slide.”

Emily rubbed at the throbbing spot on her head. “Well, they can keep it. The slip n’ slide really turned me off it did. Just dried up my knickers. If I were wearing any that is.”

The couple shared a laugh. Emily joined Lena down on the floor. As much as she loved being covered in her gf’s cooch juice, now that she wasn’t horny anymore, she just felt sticky.

“Are you feeling better now, babe?”

Lena nuzzled her head against Emily’s speckled shoulder. She felt content, safe, and definitely not hornier than like ten cats in heat or some shit. “Yeah, thanks to you. Next time I’m feeling like a failure, I just have to remember that I have the best girlfriend in the world.”

Emily’s eyes watered. “Babe, that’s really sweet and super gay.”

“It’s a good thing that I’m super gay then.”

Lena and Emily helped each other off the floor and into the shower. They cleaned the cummies off each other, sleepily finding their way to the guest bedroom where the bed was clear of clutter.

“Em,” Lena said, sleep almost taking her to dreamland.

“Hm?”

“I love you a lesbian lot.”

“Me too, babe. I love you lesbianly an awful lot.”

And then they went to sleep.

The end.  

**Author's Note:**

> This'll probably stay a one-shot. In the mood for something similar????? Check out my other fic, The Widowmarker.


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